


Petrichor

by less_depresso_more_espresso



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Bad Parent Professor Membrane, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Fluff, Human Gir, Human Zim (Invader Zim), M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Sharpener AU, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, The Almighty Tallest Being Assholes (Invader Zim), There is no smut, They're gay and oblivious, i have no idea how child services work, idiots to lovers, or government in general, professor membrane is full of shit, rated t specifically because of violence and cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/less_depresso_more_espresso/pseuds/less_depresso_more_espresso
Summary: Red and Purple ditched Zim at age fourteen, leaving him and Gir alone.People have finally started to notice the fact that they were alone. One day, as he and his sort-of friend, Dib, are walking home from work, he realizes this.Now he has to find his wayward guardians and prove they are not alone.A certain someone decides to tag along.
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Almighty Tallest Red, Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), GIR & Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. A Horrible, Awful, Very Bad Day

It all started with rain.

Of course, it did. Why wouldn't it? It was just another 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 part of Zim's life that he couldn't avoid. 

It wasn't that he didn't like water. It is, quite frankly, an unavoidable part of life. He can still drink it and bathe in it, but rain was entirely different. 

Maybe it was just that sound. The way it scattered against hard surfaces and beat down its surroundings. He couldn't stand the water from showerheads or those multi-nozzle hoses. The things were just too much like the awful weather. 

Zim just hated the rain. 

So he stood inside his workplace, trying to ignore it. However, when his shift was over, there was no avoiding it. 

Zim just stood under the gas station's canopy and glared at the clouds. He had neither raincoat nor umbrella on his person. 

Of all the days to not check the forecast. 

He stood there for a few minutes, just staring at the clouded sky. 

"Zim?"

He spun around and launched his fist. The person groaned and shouted,  
"WHAT THE FUCK???"

Zim stared down Dib as the taller teen rubbed his arm.  
"Oh. It's you."

"Yeah," the brown-haired male said bitingly, "It's me."

Dib was weird. He was a six-foot-something with glasses, a weirdly long cowlick, and a trenchcoat. To be completely honest, Zim had never seen the guy 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵. It was freaky. 

They were friends. Ish. 

More of frenemies, if you paid attention to the constant bickering and physical violence. 

"Why haven't you left yet?" Dib asked annoyingly, "Usually you're the first one out of this dump."

Zim bit down on his necklace, vaguely gesturing toward the rain. Dib nodded.  
"So the Voot was occupied?"

Zim nodded. The Voot was an old Volkswagen LT 40 that Zim built from the frame up. Basically, it was the Mystery Machine but shittier and with a shoddy pink paint job. 

"I have an umbrella if you want it," The taller boy offered. 

"Thanks," Zim gave him a sideways look, "Your car broke down, didn't it?"

He took the umbrella, opening it, and walking into the rain. Dib followed behind, covering his head with his coat. 

"No. Dad just didn't want me to go out in the damn thing with only a learner's license."

"Understandable. You drive like a blind, dying canine," Zim sneered. 

Dib punched him in the shoulder.  
"I can take back the umbrella."

The smaller boy hissed and tightened his grip on the handle. 

"Jesus Christ. Remind me not to feed you after midnight."

"It's always after midnight, Dib-Shit."

"Shut up, Space Boy."

They continued to amble along like this, arguing loudly and avoiding large puddles. Or at least, Zim was avoiding large puddles. Dib jumped in them like a five-year-old who'd just escaped their parents. 

By the time they were even close to Zim's house, Dib was wet as a dog and Zim had been punched multiple times.

And there were way too many cars on the block. 

Zim stared at the black vans. Dib gave an inquisitive grunt.  
"Expecting company?"

The black-haired boy shook his head absentmindedly. Gir. Where was Gir? Did they already get home from skool? Were they safe? What was happening?

Zim peered at the vans' logos.

Stable Household Investigation Team. 

He scrunched up his face in disgust. Who the fuck came up with that?

He heard the click-clack of shoes on the pavement behind him. Zim ducked behind a shrub. 

A person in a black suit was talking to another in similar clothing.

"Why are we even here? The house looks…" they gestured vaguely at the blue and purple exterior, "Interesting, but it's no cause for concern."

"They're alone. We've confirmed it."

Zim gulped. 

"They need to find suitable living conditions. They need guardians. Children can't just live alone."

"So we have to take them in for their own good?"

Zim backed away. 

"Yes. Yes, we do."

Zim walked a little faster, not bothering to walk around the small reservoirs taking shape on the asphalt. He walked through the street, aiming for his backyard. With fumbling hands, he unlocked the back gate and barged through. He didn't bother to lock it. 

He ran into the house, practically knocking the door off its hinges.  
"GIR??"

Zim ran upstairs.  
"GIR, WHERE ARE YOU???"

He swung his head toward the sound of a squeal so loud it made his hearing aids fizzle. The small boy ran into the bathroom.

Gir was rocking themself back and forth on the yellow tile, dog hat/scarf pulled down over their head. They were whining at an impossible pitch. It was so loud, Zim had to turn off his hearing aids just so his eardrums wouldn't rupture. 

He went to Gir's room and grabbed Minimoose.

The boy then sat down in front of his nibling, criss-crossing his legs. He put the purple plush in before them. The black-haired male turned his hearing aids up a bit, just so he could tell when Gir was ready. 

He heard footsteps trekking toward them. "Zim! What-"

"Shush," Zim held out a finger to the greasy teen behind him. He hopes his words contained enough finality to get the chatterbox to shut up. 

Luckily enough, he didn't hear another word. Instead, Mr. Trenchcoat sat down beside Zim. 

Gir kept rocking back and forth for a little while longer. Zim waited it out silently, as he usually did. Then Gir reached out and touched Minimoose. 

They giggled.  
"Pretty moosie."

Zim breathed his relief. He turned his hearing aids back up enough to hear his surroundings.  
"Gir, we're going to get in the Voot, okay?"

The small child nodded.  
"Oki. Can I take the moosie?"

"Yes, Gir. You can take the moosie."

Gir laughed and hugged the plushie.  
"Yay!" 

Zim tapped their bright pink shoes.  
"We gotta go now. Can you get up for Zim?"

Gir nodded erratically, getting to their feet. "Can I bring my piggie blanket?"

Zim sighed, rolling his eyes.  
"Okay. But hurry up."

They rushed out of the room. Zim got to his feet, walking out mumbling to himself. The clank of Dib's shoes indicated that a certain someone was following. 

"Zim, what are you doing?"

The smaller boy barked a laugh, running to his room. "ZIM IS LEAVING, OBVIOUSLY! YOUR EYES MUST NEED MORE MAINTENANCE THAN PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT, DIB-STINK!"

Zim shoved a few sweaters and a bottle of hand sanitizer into his pack. His eyes darted over the room, looking for something else to bring. With a small grunt, he threw a packet of bleach wipes in. 

"How do you know this has anything to do with you?" Dib asked, throwing out his arms frustratedly. 

"Because the rest of the people here are unremarkable in every way possible!" Zim crowed, "Zim should know! I planted cameras in their houses!"

Dib stopped for a second, blinking owlishly. "Not even going to touch that."

"Your first good decision!"

After a moment of silence, something smacked the back of his head. With a yelp, Zim spun to face his assailant. He looked down. It was a water bottle. 

"I'm coming with you."

Zim narrowed his violet eyes at his kind-of-sort-of friend.  
"Why?"

Dib shrugged, stuffing a few water bottles into his coat.  
"I don't 𝘸𝘩𝘺. But what I 𝘥𝘰 know is that no one will miss me. So why the hell not?"

Zim blinked astoundedly.  
"Okay?"

He walked past the taller boy and down the stairs. He ushered Gir to the backyard and out to the Voot. Dib ambled behind. 

"Get in or Zim is leaving you," He growled. 

Dib frantically jumped in the car, slamming the doors shut behind him.  
"Bi-"

Zim slapped a hand over Dib's mouth, jerking his chin in Gir's direction.  
"There are children present."

He jammed in his keys with a frustrated grumble. The blotchy-skinned male almost cried with relief when the engine actually started. 

He had to find Red and Purple. They could tell these people that they weren't all on their lonesome. Maybe they could be in peace again. 

He couldn't lose this.

Zim couldn't lose Gir.


	2. Fuck You. Fuck You. You're Cool-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Membrane is a piece of shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains depictions of transphobia to explain why Dib was so eager to leave with Zim. If you wish to skip this portion, it begins at "Then, to his upmost surprise, Dad sat down," and ends with "He ran down the block". 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter!

"Pizza's here."

Dib shook his head.  
"I'm not hungry."

"Dad's eating with us today," Gaz growled, "Pretend you're hungry."

Dib groaned. Dragging his hand across the wall he tailed his sister. Days with Dad were rare. He was always consumed in his work, always somewhere helping someone that wasn't one of his twin children. Dib understood. Ish. His father's job was important. He just prioritized science over his relatives.

To be honest, Dib wasn't sure what faction of science he even studied. 

Whenever he asked, the professor just yelled, "SCIENCE", and disappeared.

Because of his father's occupation, whatever it was, time spent with him was rare. Gaz cherished it, whilst Dib couldn't care less. He was ninety percent sure that his father would merely project a hologram or bring out a computer. It happened almost every time. 

Dib sat down at the table with a thump. He pulled out his phone and started playing Candy Crush. Gaz gave him a sideways glare. Dib stuck his tongue out at her, like the mature Junior he was. 

Then, to his utmost surprise, Dad sat down. 

Dib stuffed his phone in his pocket, kind of amazed that the man had actually come to the table today. He grabbed a slice of pizza, not bothering to find a plate. 

Gaz was beaming. Metaphorically, of course. The scowl on her face was everlasting. Dib could just tell his sister was happy at the moment. 

The Professor didn't take a slice of pizza for himself. No no no. He couldn't partake in such a 'greasy abomination', as he once said. 

Dib was about halfway through his pizza when silence went to shit. 

"So, how are my lovely daughters doing today?" 

Gaz flinched. She gave Dib a pleading look. He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his pizza. His sister gave a sigh of relief and began to tell Dad about her week. Apparently, she was getting the hang of drums now, and her boss said she could get Saturday off for practice. 

Good for her. 

Dib was barely resisting the urge to pull out his phone. He wasn't part of the conversation and didn't wish to be. 

"And what about you?" Dib gave a start. He'd been spacing out and hadn't noticed his father staring. "You haven't said a word all night?"

"You didn't ask me anything," He grunted in return. 

"I believe I addressed both of my offspring previously."

"Really?" Dib said, raising an eyebrow skeptically, "Because, based on my memory, you said, 'daughters'. You only have one daughter, so I didn't answer."

Professor Membrane gave a loud sigh.  
"Not this again."

Dib sat up, the chair giving a loud skid.  
"I'm going to work."

He charged to the door, throwing his trench coat on and stuffing his wallet in his pocket. As he reached for the keys, his dad protested.  
"Now hold it right there, young lady."

Dib knit his eyebrows, grabbed an umbrella, and ran out the door. "FUCK YOU!"

He ran down the block, opening his umbrella as soon as he got a few houses away. Dib frustratedly mumbled and grumbled and other such things.

When he got to work, Zim was acting weird. 

Scratch that. Zim was acting 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭. He was always weird. 

Zim was a five-foot terror with hearing aids, five layers of clothing, and a voice akin to an air horn. He always had some stupid headband in his hair and some stupid necklace around his throat. 

White blotches of vitiligo marked his skin, and he possessed the most hypnotic purple eyes you ever did see. 

On anyone else, he would have considered these traits beautiful. On Zim, they fell a little flat. 

Usually, the tyke would be shouting at customers or arguing with a coworker. Today, he didn't make a peep. He just stood there, stocking shelves and giving change. 

It was unnerving. 

What was wrong? Why was he acting like this?

Why did Dib not like him acting like this?

The pitter-patter of water against the window snapped him out of his trance. He looked out. 

Rain. 

Of course.

\---

"I don't 𝘸𝘩𝘺. But what I 𝘥𝘰 know is that no one will miss me. So why the hell not?"

\---

Dib was sitting in Zim's car next to Gir. The small child was huddled in a ball, pig blanket wrapped around their shoulders and knees. Gir was leaning on Dib's shoulder, casually watching the phone before them. 

The chatter from his device filled the silence. Or at least vocal silence. The hum of the car was there. 

He was relaying some tv show. Gir had picked it out, so Dib hadn't seen the title. It had tons of comedic violence. Must've been why Zim's sibling had liked it in the first place. 

"What is this?" Dib asked quietly. 

"It's the Angry Monkey Show!" Gir screeched, "IT'S MY FAVORITEST SHOW!!"

"Yes, it is," Zim crowed from the front seat. Dib could practically see him tighten the grip on the steering wheel as the small boy added, "They watch it constantly."

Dib gave a small 'oof' and turned his attention back to the screen. After maybe a second of silence, Gir screeched, "I'M HUNGY!"

"Shut. UP!" Zim shouted back, "ZIM DID NOT BRING ANY FOOD."

Dib turned his gaze to the front seat.  
"You didn't bring any food?"

"WE WERE IN A RUSH, DIB-STINK!"

"You brought, like, five things of hand sanitizer. But you didn't bring any food?"

"SANITIZATION IS IMPORTANT!"

"MORE IMPORTANT THAN FOOD???"

Zim gave a few indignant murmurs and turned back to the road. 

Dib sighed. He handed the phone to Gir, hoping the kid wouldn't eat it or something. He clambered over the backseat and leaned into the front. Zim grunted his distaste and tightened his grip on the wheel.  
"Yes, Dib-Thing?"

"Can you stop at a gas station or something? I don't want Gir to have a fit."

The smaller boy groaned.  
"Yes. They are quite loud when they're hungry."

After a moment of frustrated mumbling, the vitiligo-skinned male shouted, "FINE! FIND A GAS STATION WITH YOUR PHONE THINGY!"

Dib squinted.  
"There's…" He pinched the bridge of his nose and pointed to a Pilot Travel Center, "There's one right there."

"QUIT YOUR CONDESCENDINGS!!!"

True to Dib's directions, Zim swerved off the freeway. The bad thing was, Zim was driving very fast. And he was swerving to avoid oncoming cars rather than waiting for traffic to die down. Therefore the experience was altogether terrifying. Dib wasn't tied down at all, so he smacked into the window. 

The Voot pulled to a stop rather suddenly. Dib was jerked into the back seat thanks to the sheer momentum of it. Gir popped up beside him. 

"AGAIN! AGAIN!" They screeched, clapping their hands.

"NO, GIR!" Zim shouted, "WE'RE JUST GETTING THE SNACKS! THEN WE WILL GET BACK TO OUR MISSION!"

Dib squinted inquisitively. He waved his hand in a very gay way and said, "You still haven't told us what this mission 𝘪𝘴. More importantly, you haven't told 𝘮𝘦 what this mission is."

"Zim is aware of this," The small bow crowed proudly, "I just don't care. Now get out of the Voot before Zim locks you inside." 

Dib slammed open the door, jumping out and taking Gir with him. He kicked Zim in the shin. "You're not trapping me in that thing."

The black-haired teen scoffed and locked his car. He pat Gir on the head.  
"You get TWO snacks. TWO. HOW MANY SNACKS DO YOU GET?"

"TWO!" They screeched. 

"GOOD JOB, GIR! NOW GO PICK YOUR TWO SNACKIES!" 

The small child laughed maniacally and ran into the store, slamming the door behind them. Even with shut doors, Dib could hear them shout 'snackies' and the various screams of people scared for their life. 

Zim laughed.  
"We have fun!"

Dib grabbed the arm of Zim's sweater. The small boy hissed and tried to yank his arm back.  
"Dib-Thing? What the hell are you-"

"Are you ever going to tell me what we're doing?" He asked. His glasses slipped down his nose a bit, so he let go of Zim's sweater to push them back up, "I can't help if I don't know what's happening. I want to help you, okay?"

Zim made a weird face. He pulled his hand back to his side and wiggled his fingers. "Everything will be fine. There is no need to worry that abnormally large head of yours."

Just as Dib was about to defend his head, Zim repeated himself in an unusually tender tone.  
"Everything will be fine."

Then he shook himself, punched Dib in the arm, and walked into the store.  
"Pick a snack before I find Gir and maybe I'll buy it for you."

Dib ran into the gas station. 

\---

"𝘏𝘦𝘺, 𝘋𝘪𝘣. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘎𝘢𝘻. 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘜𝘩… 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘜𝘩… 𝘣𝘺𝘦."

Dib scowled. Such an asshole. Never stood up for him once, and now this? Why did she suddenly care? 

"Delete."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who skipped the beginning, just know that what essentially happened was PM being awful and Dib getting fed up with it. 
> 
> Please don't kill me


	3. Gir Goes ACAB

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND I'M WRITING AGAIN HI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Violence, Insults, Police, Gun Violence

It wasn't long before Zim stopped the Voot again. Gir had been complaining about having to pee for the past hour. Dib seemed fine, even though he was half asleep. They were at some dirty gas station presently. Zim was taking Gir to the restroom, and Dib was filling the Voot's tank with no intention of paying for the fuel. 

Gir hurried inside the restroom. Zim bought a few water bottles and some jerky strips before following. He stuffed the supplies in his pack while he waited. 

His small nibling was out soon enough. They rushed to wash their hands with way too much soap, then ran out the door without drying them. They were followed by a tall, muscular man with a large jacket, apron, and a fast-food worker’s hat.

The overall intimidation did not affect Zim. He was more concerned with the fact that the man didn't wash his hands. It was so disgusting! Why would someone be so blatantly unsanitary?

"Wash your hands, lazy dickhead!"

The man turned around with a deep scowl. "What did you say to me?"

Zim raised his eyebrows. He repeated himself, slowing his voice to enunciate every word.  
"Wash your hands, lazy dickhead."

The man took a deep breath through his nose and swung his fist. Zim ducked beneath it. He scrambled behind the man, who swung at the small teen again. Zim gave a small yelp and ran out of the men's room. Dickhead followed him, shouting a string of height-related insults. The man launched his fist once more. Zim ducked, and the man hit an air freshener display instead. The over-clothed tyke grabbed a febreeze can, shook it, and aimed toward the giant.  
"TAKE THIS, STINKY!" 

The man shouted as air freshener hit him square in the eyes. "YOU LITTLE IMP!!"

Zim gave a victorious laugh and dashed toward the gas station's doors. The man thundered behind him. The vitiligo-marked child ran to the parking lot, shrieking at Dib, "START THE VOOT!!"

The scythe-haired idiot yanked out the gas pump and ducked into the Volkswagen. Gir waved to their brother from the window. Zim jumped into his car and slammed the door behind him. 

"YOU OVERRATED TWAT!!!"

"Who's your friend?" Dib asked snidely. 

"DRIVE, DIB-STINK!!" He shouted in return, "AND, GIR, ROLL UP THE WINDOW!"

Gir most certainly did not roll up the window. They kept their head out, looking inquisitively at the man chasing their car.  
"He's got a guuuunnnn. That's illegal n' stuff!" 

Zim stared through the windshield.  
"Drive faster."

"No problem," Dib choked out. 

\----

“Dib-Thing, you’re going twenty miles over the speeding limit.”

Dib sighed. “The road is practically empty. We’ll be fine.”

He heard Zim make a frustrated noise from the backseat. Gir laughed. There was a loud thump from behind. Dib assumed that the enby had tugged Zim down or something like that. So, Dib kept speeding, and Zim kept murmuring angrily from the back. Then the speed limit went from seventy to fifty-five, as areas with speed traps usually do.

Dib was currently going thirty-five miles over the speed limit in the middle of a speeding trap.

“The wee-woo car is following us,” Gir giggled, “Pretty wee-woo car.”

Zim leaned in between the two front seats.  
“Dib, pull over. Maybe they will only give us a warning.”

“There are several reasons why that won’t work,” Dib, a colored person being chased by a cop, said, “But the biggest one is; I DON’T HAVE A LICENSE!!”

Zim glared at him.  
“You don’t- You don’t have a license? Why are you DRIVING???”

“YOU TOLD ME TO! GUN-MAN WAS CHASING US, REMEMBER???”

Zim screamed into his hands. He bashed his fist against one of the seats. Dib gave his frenemy a nervous smile.  
“I’m going to take that as ‘drive faster’.”

Zim’s violet eyes went wide. “DON’T. YOU. DARE.”

Then Gir opened the window. They stuck their head out, hands tugging down their green beanie, and screamed, “FUCK THE POLICE!!”

Dib slammed his iron soles on the gas. There was a thump in the back. Dib heard Gir laugh. Zim started shouting at his nibling to sit down and buckle up (with undertones of “where did you learn that word”). After a moment or two, the vitiligo-marked boy hoisted himself into shotgun. “Okay, slow down a bit.”

Dib shook his head.  
“Absolutely not. They’ve got out the siren. I am not dying a ‘mysterious death’ today, Zim.”  
𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 remained hidden in his mind.

Zim groaned. “Look, there’s a city comings up. Maybe if you slowed down and drove through there, we could lose them.”

“And if we don’t?”

His anxiety spiked when the smaller teen didn’t respond. What would happen? Would they die? Get arrested?

“We’ll pull into the highway from there. Then we can circle around, come back through the city, and back onto this highway.”

Dib nodded with a shaky breath. “Okay.”  
He slowed down a bit and drove off the highway. He kept pressing on until they passed the city’s opening. Dib swerved the Voot in and out of the streets, albeit, very jerkily.

Then he swerved out of the city.

"Uh oh… There's peoples chasing us n' stuff," Gir crooned from the back. 

Dib groaned. Zim shouted something unintelligible and banged his head on the dashboard. Dib saw the ramp.  
"FUCK IT."

He slammed on the gas. Zim shrieked as the taller male swerved AGAINST TRAFFIC on the highway. Gir, however, threw their hands in the air with a loud whoop. Cars screeched to a halt or served out of the way. Dib made the car turn the right way, then accelerated as much as he could. 

For a second, the Voot was silent. The only thing you could hear was the velocity of the tires and Zim's terrified panting. 

"What… the… FUCK???" Zim screeched, "WHAT THE HELL, DIB-SHIT??? YOU COULD'VE KILLED US!!! MORE IMPORTANTLY, YOU COULD'VE KILLED ZIM!!!

Zim started frantically waving his hands over the dashboard.  
"YOU PROBABLY TORE THE VOOT TO SHREDS!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???"

Dib gulped.  
"I really… really hate you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI AGAIN!!!! THINGS!!! HAPPENED!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at less-depresso-more-espresso! Art for this fic is on my tag "sharpener au".
> 
> I love comments, go ahead and tell me your thoughts!


End file.
